


Serve You Long

by eiqhties



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Established Relationship, Food, Friendship, Isak and Even's new flat, M/M, Sana's POV, the holy trinity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 10:36:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10739967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiqhties/pseuds/eiqhties
Summary: Sana would be the first to admit that recently it’s all been starting to get to her. It’s how she ended up visiting Isak and Even in their new flat in the first place; finally giving in to Isak’s increasingly desperate pleas for her to revise with him.





	Serve You Long

**Author's Note:**

> I'm dedicating this to [Jamie](http://toshikosato.tumblr.com), because I love her very, very much. Also because the fic that I was writing her for her birthday is _still_ no where near done, and her birthday was in mid December last year. I'm a disaster, no one call me out on this. 
> 
> Working title for this fic was: SKAM family dinner

“Sana, are you going to be staying for food?” Even calls.

Sana looks up in time to see Even emerging; his head  poking around the frame of the living room’s open door before the rest of his body follows. He’s wearing a t-shirt she saw Isak wearing last week – the sleeves slightly too tight around his upper arm muscle. His hair isn’t gelled back, instead he has a vibrant pink bandana holding the loose curls out of the way. In his hand, there’s a purple, plastic spatula.

Objectively, the look is ridiculous. She can’t quite hold back her laugh when she sees him. He feigns a hurt look as she does so, placing an overtly dramatic hand over his heart. “What are you laughing at?” He asks.

“Your look,” She replies, “It’s, you know. Interesting.”

“I was aiming for that,” Even nods. Sana laughs again, putting a hand over her mouth to hide the full extent of her smile.

Clearly, however, Even’s gangly and mismatched outfit doesn’t bother Isak. He looks up from the biology notes they’ve collectively piled around the floor and smiles up at his boyfriend.  The expression is soft and easy; the kind of smile that makes every bony edge of Isak smooth down. The kind of smile that Even returns instantly, the two of them staring at each other as though they’re the only two people in the world.

Sana abruptly feels out of place. “Hello boys,” She coughs, loud and purposefully obnoxious, “I’m still here.”

Even snorts. “Sorry, Sana. As if we could forget about you,” He finally drags his eyes away from his boyfriend and looks back at her, head tilted in question, “Which is why I’ll ask again; you staying for food? I’m cooking.”

She hesitates, chewing her lip and trying to figure out the politest way to say: _As much as I’d like to, I probably can’t stay. I doubt you cooked with my needs in mind._

The thing is, Sana doesn’t actually want to leave.

Isak and Even, when you manage to distract them from each other, are actually incredibly easy to be around. Easier than the girl’s have been, lately. Eva, Vilde and Chris are all still obsessed with the idea of getting Noora to move on from William by getting her a new boyfriend, and since the party Yousef seems to be their main choice.

She knows, in theory, she could just tell them that it makes her uncomfortable. She knows that she could even tell them that she likes Yousef. They’re her friends, they’d listen to her. It’s just - Sana has never been that honest with them before. Never felt the need to tell them things like that before, and she doesn’t know how to start, anymore.

They’re mad at her now, too. All of them except Chris, that is. It’s not hard to see how frustrated they all are that she let them join forces with the Pepsi-Max Girls without asking them first. The whole situation is so tense it gives Sana a headache if she thinks about it too long.

She would just go home, but that’s awkward now as well. She’s worried she’s upsetting her mum with all of the stuff about Russ, especially now that there’s twenty-five girls instead of just five. It also hasn’t been helping that Elias keeps appearing randomly just to comment about how much she’s going to get judged for trying to be who she is, for trying to hang out with the people she likes.

Sana would be the first to admit that recently it’s all been starting to get to her. She feels exhausted trying to balance all the different parts of who she is. It’s how she ended up visiting Isak and Even in their new flat in the first place; finally giving in to Isak’s increasingly desperate pleas for her to revise with him.

They still haven’t managed to completely unpack yet - corners of the flat still stacked high with half unpacked cardboard boxes and random piles of miscellaneous items. They don’t seem to have any plates, instead, there are various dirty paper plates scattered around the room, often beside half finished mugs of tea.

The only poster they’ve managed to actually put up on the wall is a promotional one of Baz Luhrmann’s 1996 _Romeo and Juliet_. It’s blu-tacked to the wall at an angle just wonky enough Sana can’t tell if it was intentional or not.

There are no photos on the walls, except for one A4 printed sheet of paper that shows Jonas jamming his finger into a horrified looking Isak’s ear, Mahdi standing beside them both, head thrown back in laughter. Isak had shaken his head when she had pointed it out, “Magnus took the photo. It was his housewarming present.”

The general disaster of the whole place doesn’t exactly bother her, though. In fact, she sort of likes it: the flat feels lived in. Welcoming in that strange way only places like this can be. Comforting in a way not many places in her life have been, lately.

“So, are you going to be staying, Sana?” Isak asks this time, instead of Even. Now both of them are looking at her, their eyes wide and sincere.

“Um,” She looks down at her hands. She feels the silence hanging uncomfortably in the air as she tries to figure out a way she can stay that doesn’t involve her turning down food.

“Oh,” Even says, snapping his fingers and pointing at her, “Sorry, I forgot to say, the food is all vegetarian, so you don’t need to worry about keeping halal,” He shrugs casually, smiling softly at her.

Sana startles, genuinely shocked that Even was able to guess the reason she was so hesitant to accept the invitation. She knew Even before, of course, back when he was still in Bakka and he used to hang around with Elias and the boys all the time. They hadn’t spoken much back then, though. To her, he’d just been her brother’s singular white friend; she hadn’t expected him to have actually internalised anything about her faith.

After all, none of the girls had ever bothered.

“You didn’t have to-” She starts. She feels simultaneously torn between guilt that he would go to any effort for her and strong gratitude that he did it anyway. Even shrugs it away, waving a dismissive hand at her.

“No, no. It was no problem at all, really. I wasn’t going to make anything that you couldn’t eat if you were staying. Anyway, I’ve been cooking vegetarian food the past couple of days, because my mum thinks Isak and I need to be eating better. She’s worried that we’re both going to get scurvy, so I’m trying to branch out. Say yes to vegetables, and all that,” He does an incredibly dorky thumbs up with the hand not holding a spatula, and Sana finds herself laughing at him again.

Her laugh makes Even’s whole face light up, “For real, it’s chill, yeah? And don’t worry, I’m following a recipe, so it should taste alright.”

Behind her, Isak snorts. When she turns to look at him, he rolls his eyes at her and pulls a longsuffering face, “Even thinks he’s the next Gordon Ramsay. He keeps watching Hell’s Kitchen and nodding along whenever Gordon shouts at someone, saying, _yeah Gordon, you tell them_.” Isak’s impression of Even is far from close, but it makes Even laugh - which seems to be all Isak was going for, anyway.

“Hey,” Even says, “I sound nothing like that. Anyway, this isn’t a Gordon Ramsay recipe, it’s Nigella Lawson, because, Isak, you’re worth the classy stuff.”

“Thanks, I’m sure,” Isak says, rolling his eyes at Sana as if to say: _You see what I put up with?_

Even, on the other side of the room, is pulling much the same expression; he shakes his head with an air of longsuffering before turning and looking at Sana once more, “Seriously though, Sana, you can stay if you want.”

“Um,” Sana still feels hesitant to accept the offer, as much as she wants to.

Isak and Even haven’t been living together for long, and she doesn’t want to infringe on their space. Both of them are blinking at her expectantly, though. She also knows from the, ‘ _ay lil sis stay out maybe?’_ text that Elias sent her earlier that he has all of his friends over again.

Sana bites her bottom lip in thought as she looks between the two of them, before saying, “You really don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” Even smiles, “I wouldn’t have asked you to stay if I minded.” He tips his head forwards, nodding in Isak’s direction. “Do you mind, Isak?”

Isak shakes his head, “Not at all,” He says, grinning. “You need to stay, actually. I need someone else with good taste to back me up here, because Even puts on the worst music.”

Even gasps dramatically, stumbling back as though shot and putting a hand over his heart. “Don’t listen to him, Sana,” He says, “I have the best taste in music. Isak hadn’t even heard of Nas, until I told him to listen to him.”

Sana turns to look at Isak, raising her eyebrows at him. “You hadn’t heard of Nas? _I’ve_ heard of Nas. I thought you were supposed to be into that sort of music?”

“I _had_ heard of him!” Isak protests, “I just hadn’t, like, listened to him or whatever.”

“He’s lying,” Even says; his lips are pressed together in a poor attempt to hide how amused he actually is. “He spends a lot of time pretending that he’s this really cool guy, but he’s actually just a mess. You want to see him in the mornings.”

“I am cool,” Isak protests. He readjusts the snapback he’s got on backwards as if the fact he’s wearing it will help further his point. “I’m way cooler than you.”

Sana looks between the two of them, slowly: sometimes she forgets that all boys are idiots.

“As the only outside participant to this conversation,” She starts, “I can confirm that neither of you are cool. In fact, I am definitely the only one who could claim that title in this apartment.”

Even finally loses his attempt to not smile, mouth breaking out into a wide grin. “I guess that’s true,” He says, then looks at Sana again. “And we did finally talk you round, right? You are staying for food? It’s vegetarian lasagne, so it’s still going to be a while. It’ll all be worth it though, I swear. It’s going to be really fancy, I bought all the best stuff.”

“How much money did you spend on ingredients, Even?” Isak asks, with a tone of longsuffering.

Even shushes him, “That’s not the point right now, the point is whether or not Sana’s going to stay for dinner with us.”

She lets the silence hang heavy in the tiny room for a couple of seconds more. Even doesn’t look put out, though; she’s starting to think that Even isn’t the kind of person that gets stressed out too easily.

“Sure,” She says, eventually. She shrugs to make it look extra casual, “If you’ve already spent all of your food budget just to make it, I might as well try the result.”

“I did _not_ spend all the food budget. Don’t listen to Isak, he just worries,” Even stresses, pulling a face at her. “I’ll let you know when it’s all ready, even though I shouldn’t, for that insult to my budgeting skills,” The last bit is directed towards Isak, his eyes narrowed.

“Sorry, baby,” Isak replies, “I trust your budgeting skills.” His attention has finally gone back to the piles of notes in front of them. His tone has shifted, now sounding more distracted and checked out of the conversation as he did previously.

He bends down over the paper in front of him to highlight something, so when he says, “Love you,” it’s offhand and easy. It rolls off his tongue with no hesitation, as though they say it to each other all the time.

Judging by the way Even’s whole body seems to jolt in surprise, it isn’t.

He stands there for a moment, before his whole face melts into something absurdly soft. “I love you, too,” He says; his voice is gentle, so warm that Sana almost feels as though she should excuse herself. He looks so genuinely delighted by Isak’s existence that the whole thing feels more personal than any of Vilde’s most explicit stories about her and Magnus.

When Even finally leaves to duck back into the kitchen, Sana turns back to Isak. He finally seems to have realised what he said, and his cheeks are flushed pink as he looks down at his notes. His shoulders are relaxed, though - he seems more embarrassed than anything else.

“So,” Sana says. “Living together is going well, then?”

“Uh, yeah,” Isak scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, and Sana watches him, amused. “It’s been good. Yeah. Um. It’s been really good. You know?”

Sana flinches a little. She knows that Isak means nothing by it – but it’s just slightly too close to all the conversations the girls have been having, lately. Just slightly too close to this idea everyone seems to have that having a boyfriend, having someone is the only thing that actually matters.

“No. I don’t know. I don’t know why everyone feels the need to talk about dating and boyfriends all the time. There’s more to life than that!” The whole outburst isn’t expected, and it comes out harsher than she means it to; all of her poorly suppressed anger finally bubbling up to the surface.

Isak looks up at her in surprise. “Sana?”

There’s silence. Isak is still looking at her, wide-eyed and concerned. She feels intensely guilty for her outburst – the whole thing too reminiscent of the way she snapped at Vilde the other day in Noora’s room.

“Sorry,” She says, “That came out meaner than I meant it to.”

“It’s chill,” Isak says back, he sounds like he means it, too; shrugging with only one of his shoulders and looking casually back down at their notes.

“No, really,” Sana doesn’t know why she’s pressing this issue – she should be grateful that Isak’s willing to let it go and move on. “That was mean of me.”

“Seriously?” Isak looks up at her, rolling his eyes, “Jesus Christ, Sana. I’m not offended! I mean, I’ve definitely said way meaner things to everyone in the past. I mean, to you especially. Honestly, after all the stuff I said to you about Islam you don’t have to explain shit to me,” He pauses for a few seconds. He looks at her slowly, considering. “If something’s bothering you, though. I guess you can, like, talk to me about it.”

Sana looks across to him. She has the feeling that her dubiousness is showing clearly on her face – because Isak’s mouth works needlessly for a few seconds before he starts speaking again.

“Well, I didn’t mean that you, like, _need_ to tell me about it. Of course you don’t have to talk to me about anything that you don’t want to talk to me about. It’s just, I know that before I told people about, um, you know, me and Even, I was really miserable. I mean, I felt like I had this huge secret and I was so stressed all the time, I wasn’t even sleeping.

“There was a time where, um. There was a time where it got so bad that I actually went to the school nurse and asked for sleeping pills. She, uh, didn’t do that, though. Instead she got all weird and kept talking about how no one is an island and how you have to talk to people. Which, like, _obviously_. Except, you know, I took her up on her advice and me and Jonas got a kebab and I told him I, um. I told him I was into dudes. It went well though, because Jonas is, you know. He’s my best friend. So, the whole thing was actually pretty chill and I was able to sleep after, so. If you ever wanna talk,” He trails off awkwardly, smiling at her.

“Wow. I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you speak,” Sana tells him, after she’s finally processed the huge slew of words that Isak just let loose.

“Yeah, well. I’m just trying to say, I’m, like, here for you, or whatever,” Isak waves a hand around in front of him as though he’s trying to clear the onslaught of emotions that he just spilled out. His cheeks are flushed red again, and he’s clearly flustered.

“Thanks,” Sana says, laughing despite herself at the image they must both make. Isak smiles back at her, instantly looking more at ease. He shrugs, again.

“Seriously, though. It’s chill. You can talk to me any time, yeah?”

“It’s just,” She starts. Isak looks at her, silently, waiting for her to go on, “It’s just – Vilde’s going out with Magnus, and Noora’s still talking about her and William, and Eva’s been hooking up with Chris for months, now.”

She bites her lip. Sana has a few rules, when it comes to her friends, and one of the most important is that she doesn’t judge them. It’s not her place to force her way into their lives, to dictate whether or not their actions are wrong or immoral. For her to judge them, she would become just like the people that judge _her_ for her Hijab, for her faith, for her choices.

“I get that,” Isak says.

Sana stares at him, “You’re dating someone, too. You’re _living_ with him.”

“I know,” Isak doesn’t flinch at her tone. Sana watches him curiously. She wonders when he lost the last shreds of embarrassment over his relationship with Even; he looks so much more relaxed now. So much surer of himself, and settled in his own skin.

“I know I’m with Even,” Isak goes on, “And I’m so grateful for that, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t still suck when Mahdi, Magnus and Jonas are talking about girls. Or when they’re all going out and hooking up or whatever, and they’re sharing the stories the next day. It’s not their fault, and I don’t, like, want to get annoyed at them for it, but it’s still something that I can’t talk about with them. It’s still something that I’ll never fully understand. So, I mean, I get how you can feel left out, sometimes. That’s all.”

Sana stares at him for a few moments, stunned silent.

If someone had told her a few months ago that the person she’d find the most common ground with would be Isak Valtersen, she’d probably laugh in their face. Sana doesn’t want to change or replace her friends – the girls are important to her in ways that she can’t even explain sometimes – but it’s hard.

It’s hard to find explanations for where she goes when she ducks out of the conversation to pray. It’s hard to be so close to them, to know so much about them, but have them know so little about her. She knows that some of it is her fault - she could have been more open, softer - but she also knows that just as much of the blame lies with the rest of them.

“I guess I just don’t know what to say to them, sometimes,” She says, quietly.

“Hey,” Isak says. He looks at her, eyes wide open, serious expression on his face. “You can say it to me or Even, yeah? I mean, any stuff. Stuff about Islam, stuff about parties and hooking, whatever. I’m not saying I’ll know anything about it, but you’re my friend, so? It’ll be chill. Besides, even if I don’t know exactly what you’re talking about, I’m sure you can speak to Even about it. A while back he taught himself the entire Qur’an in Arabic, so he actually knows a lot about everything. I mean, he doesn’t necessarily _understand_ , but he knows.”

Sana stares in shock, her mouth dropping open. She finds herself wondering if she’ll ever be able to get her bearings in this conversation again. “Sorry, Even did _what_?”

“I know, that was my reaction,” Isak says, “I asked him why he did it, recently, and he said that he learned it all for his friends? I don’t know. I think a couple of the people he was friends with in Bakka were Muslim, so he wanted to be, like, informed.”

This floors Sana. She imagines Even, holled up in his room trying to learn the entire Qur’an for Elias and Mikael and the rest of them. She remembers the first few weeks after Even stopped coming around the house, the pinched way Elias’ face had looked and the whispered conversations that had taken place.

She hasn’t asked Even about before, not properly. She doesn’t want to push him, to stress him out. She doesn’t have to ask to know that shit went down before, and she’s not going to be the one who puts that tired, stressed out look back on Even’s face.

Something about all of this must show in her expression, because Isak’s eyes flick up to meet hers. He scans her face, quietly. Then he smiles awkwardly, before continuing on.

“He’s been telling me about it, though we’re both, like, not the best sources on all this stuff, so we’ve been watching YouTube videos and TED talks from actual Muslim people about their experiences and stuff as well. I just, you know. I mean. I figured, hey, a major part of my friend’s life is her faith. The least I could do is be informed.”

Sana’s throat feels tight. For the first time in a long while, she seriously has to control the urge to burst into tears, all because Isak Valtersen is trying to read up on Islam for her.

“That’s, um,” She swallows, “That’s really nice of you, Isak.”

“It’s nothing, really. Don’t, like, make it a big deal, it’s chill.” He winces, slightly, “I’m not going to lie, it was, um, it was mainly Even’s idea. And I’m not saying that I’m actually very informed, either. We’ve only been doing it for a little while, so there’s a lot of stuff I still don’t know.”

“You’re still doing it for me, though,” She says.

“Um, yeah. Well, you know. You looked up all that stuff about,” He waves a hand, “Evolution, and, like, homosexuality. So I thought I could return the favour.”

Isak’s hands clench in the notes. Before he coughs, awkwardly, and looks back up at her, “Islam’s not the only thing we’ve been looking up, though. Even keeps making me watch all these weird YouTube videos about, like, film theory and stuff. It’s so boring! And, the other day I was trying to watch _The Avengers_ with Jonas and Mahdi, and all I could think about was the shot composition and stuff. It totally ruined the film for me.”

As he’s speaking, he keeps raising his voice, until he’s calling through the wall, “I guess Even is just a _massive nerd_.”

There’s the sound of a pan being moved, and then Even appears back in the kitchen doorway, pulling a face. “Sorry, who’s the nerd?” He asks, “You two are the ones doing all this studying together.”

“Sorry, old man, it must be hard for you being so senile that you forget what it’s like to actually have ambitions.”

“Wow,” Even says, “Sana, do you want extra food? There’s a lot of it. For some reason, I thought I lived with someone else but I was forgetting that they’re dead to me.”

“You’re the one that’s nearly dead, old man,” Isak shoots back, grinning.

“I’m not _that_ old,” Even says.

“You’re ancient. Sometimes you move in the middle of the night and I’m woken up by the sound of your joints creaking.”

“You two are worse than my parents,” Sana informs them, gravely. “It’s very hard to be around both of you.”

“I can’t believe the amount of people that have been hating on our love, lately. It’s very discouraging,” Even says.

She smirks at him, “You two should be discouraged. Seriously, I don’t think there’s a single classroom in Nissen that you haven’t been caught hooking in.”

Isak flushes, “That’s not true! We haven’t gone anywhere near the language corridor.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I need to update my map of ‘Places I Can Go In School Without Catching Evak Together’,” Sana says, holding up her hands and doing air quotes. Isak rolls his eyes, sticking his tongue out at her. She refrains from doing it back.

“Isn’t it 2017? Aren’t we all supposed to be supportive of same gender relationships? I really can’t believe that you’re coming for me like this. I’m honestly feeling very attacked right now”

“Sorry, Isak,” Sana says, sweetly. “I forgot. Homophobia was abolished at the same time as racism; the inauguration of Barack Obama.”

“He did so much for everyone,” Even chimes in, “Really, from all walks of life. You know, I heard he can cure bipolar disorder, too?”

Isak widens his eyes mock wide, “Wow,” He says, “Really?”

“It’s true,” Even nods, “You go into the bathroom at night, say Barack Obama into the mirror three times, and anything that may make your life harder than the average straight white mentally healthy male is automatically eradicated through the sheer power of Obama’s will.”

“Mm, I heard that too. In fact, it’s a biological fact, isn’t it, Isak? We wrote it in our notes last week, remember?”

“We did,” Isak says. “I remember writing it down very clearly. You know what I also remember?”

“What?”

“I also remember reading the biological fact that people get hungry if they go long periods of time without eating.”

Even sighs, “The food is nearly ready, I swear. It’s got to sit for a while before you can eat it. Anyway, you were the one that called me in here just to insult me, anyway.”

“Aw, Even, you know I care about you really,” Isak says, shoving himself to his feet and padding across the small room. He’s wearing a grey hoodie and black tracksuit bottoms, the only colour in his outfit the bright red socks that he’s wearing. Sana watches as he goes up onto his tiptoes to press a soft kiss to Even’s cheek. She watches the way that Even leans into it, the way every line of his face smooths out and he looks calm, relaxed.

She makes a decision.

“Hey, Isak,” She says. Isak turns around to look at her. Even does, too, his arm sliding comfortably around Isak’s waist and pulling him closer to his body.  

“Yeah?”

“You know the way you were saying I could talk to you about stuff?”

Isak shrugs. The movement looks slightly uncomfortable with Even still plastered against him, but neither of them pulls away from the other. “Sure, you can talk to me,” He says.

“Well,” She hesitates, chewing at her lip for a while. Even and Isak are both staring at her intently, and it’s Even she looks at, not Isak, when she continues speaking. “There’s this guy I like.”

“That’s cool, Sana,” Isak grins, leaning even heavier against his boyfriend. “What’s he called?”

Sana looks at Even again, takes a deep breath in and says, “He’s called Yousef.”

Even’s hand drops from around Isak’s waist, and his eyes go wide. “You like _Yousef_?” He cries. “Elias and Mikael’s _friend_ Yousef?” Sana nods, slowly, and Even’s mouth falls open. He looks completely speechless - as though the very earth underneath him has been shifted.

Sana had been expecting a reaction from him - knew that he was anxious about his past in Bakka. She knew that he was hiding it from Isak. She knew, as well, that telling Isak about Yousef would get a reaction out of Even, but she didn’t think that it would be this dramatic, this pained.

Sana remembers her earlier thought - about how it would take a lot to knock Even’s equilibrium out of place. She’s proven herself wrong, now. Apparently all it took was the mention of his old friends.

Isak looks between the two of them, eyes narrowed. “What?” He asks, “What about Mikael? And who’s Yousef? Who’s _Elias_? Even, how do you know these guys?” There’s jealousy in his tone, a hint of possessiveness. Sana can hear beyond that, though - she can see the way his shoulders have hunched in on themselves, the way his hands curl up at his sides. It’s a return of the less confident Isak, the Isak who wasn’t sure how to stand when he was in a room with Even.

Even must see it, too, because he takes a deep breath in. His right hand goes up to cradle Isak’s cheek, and Sana doesn’t know if she should be in the room to see this - because Even looks terrified.

“Elias is Sana’s brother,” Even says, “He used to go to Bakka, when I went there. We were in the same year.”

Isak’s eyes widen, and he looks to Sana, surprised. “You have a brother?”

“Yeah,” She nods.

Isak takes a few seconds to process this before he turns to look back at Even. He doesn’t move Even’s hand off his face, but he does lean away slightly - taking Even in with greater intensity. Frowning, he asks, “So, you were friends with him? If he was in your year, and hung around with Mikael?”

Even’s mouth is pinched. When he finally nods in answer, it’s only the smallest movement of his head, barely visible if you weren’t looking for it.

Isak does move Even’s  hand off his face this time, though he leaves them hanging in between their two bodies. Sana looks at the way Even stares at them as though they’re his lifeline. The look on his face reminds her achingly of the way Elias had looked when Even stopped coming around in the first place.

“So you knew who Sana was when you started at Nissen?” Isak asks, then. It’s quiet, almost as if he doesn’t want to hear the answer.

Even shuts his eyes. Again, he takes a deep breath in, letting it out so slowly that Sana starts to seriously regret setting this situation up to happen.

“Yes,” Even says.

“And you were good friends with Mikael and Elias? Mikael wasn’t kidding when he said that you were his best friend in that video?”

Even swallows, Sana tracks the movement in his Adam’s apple, “No,” Even whispers, “He wasn’t kidding. I knew Sana before _kosegruppe_ even happened.”

Sana shifts, uncomfortably aware of her own body. In front of her, Isak sucks in a sharp breath, “So you didn’t actually go to it to see me?”

Even looks shocked, he grasps at Isak’s hand where he’s still holding it between them. “What?” He says, his voice sounds ragged. “Of course I did, Isak. I. Of course I went to see you. You’re - Isak, I wasn’t lying when I said that I saw you the first day of school. I’ve,” He takes another shuddery breath in, “I’ve not told you some things, or I’ve hidden things, but I’ve never lied to you, Isak. I just,” Even’s free hand clenches uselessly at his side, “I just don’t want you to hate me. I know you’ve said you won’t, but. I don’t want to end up alone.”

His voice cracks, and Sana’s stomach heaves with guilt. She never should have said anything. She never should have tried to use Isak and Even’s apartment to hide from her own problems.

Pressing herself to stand up, too, she stands at the edge of the room - looking on at Isak and Even, unsure of what she’s supposed to do. Isak is chewing on his lip. He looks at Even, eyes scanning every centimetre of his face - as though Isak will be able to search out any hint of a lie in it.

“Okay,” Isak says, eventually. His voice is slow and measured, and he doesn’t take his eyes away from Even’s, “I believe you, Even. You’re not alone, you’ll never be alone.” This time, it’s his turn to squeeze their conjoined hands; Sana watches his knuckles go white with the force of it.

“I love you,” Even says. It’s different to how he said it earlier - less easy. This time it sounds more like it’s been wrenched out of him. When he blinks, Sana can see the shine of tears on his cheeks. Standing there, in the middle of the living room, she has to blink rapidly to dispel the urge to cry.

This whole day has been so emotional.

“I’m sorry,” She says.

Isak and Even both jump. Clearly, they’d forgotten that she was there.

“It’s not anything you did?” Isak says, face scrunched up in obvious confusion. “I’m glad that you felt like you could tell us that, even if it was sort of two secrets in one. But, I mean, if you hadn’t said anything, I’m sure it would have come out eventually.”

Even nods, before sniffing loudly and finally pulling away his hand from Isak’s, wiping his nose with his forearm.  Sana wrinkles her own nose in response - but doesn’t say anything; Even still looks slightly too pathetic for her to comment on any disgusting habits. “Yeah,” He says, “I’m not angry, or anything. I’m glad you wanted to tell us.”

He looks up at her, eyes crinkling up at the corners as a smile spreads slowly across his face. “Yousef, eh?” He says.

“Stop it,” Sana tells him, but she’s smiling too, now.

“Is he a good guy?” Isak asks, looking up at Even and smiling as well.

Even laughs, his arm coming up and looping over Isak’s shoulders and pulling them flush together once more. “He’s great,” Even says, “Very handsome, and that’s not even the best bit.”

“What’s the best bit?” Isak says, smiling as he leans his head against the space between Even’s shoulder and his neck. Even continues to smile, bending his arm at the elbow and tangling his hand into Isak’s curls.

“Well, the best bit is,” He trails off, looking at Sana conspiratorially.  

“The best bit is _what?_ ” Sana says,not entirely able to keep the snap of irritation out of her voice. Even just laughs again, though, shaking his head. 

“ - _Well_ ,” Even goes on, looking her dead in the eye as he smiles, “He always had a _massive_ crush on Sana.”

Sana opens and closes her mouth several times before she can speak again, “What?” She says.

Even nods, whole face lit up with embarrassingly obvious delight. “Terrible, really. Think me with Isak but _worse_.”

“Oh,” Sana says, eventually.

Even looks far too smug, arm looped around Isak as he stands there looking like he knows all the secrets of the universe. She narrows her eyes at him.

“Weren’t you making a lasagne?” She says, pointedly.

Even’s whole face falls. “ _Shit_ ,” He says, dashing out of the living room with Isak and Sana’s laughter trailing behind him.

*

The lasagne is pretty cold by the time Even gets to it. The broccoli probably could have cooked for longer.

Sitting there, eating it off a paper plate with Isak and Even opposite her, it feels like the best thing that Sana has ever eaten.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Title is stolen from [Friends](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8YUtKnL2BN0) by Nas and Damien Marley. It's very good.  
> \- You can find me on tumblr over on [evennaeshiem](http://evennaeshiem.tumblr.com), where I will be crying about SKAM, books and my life.  
> \- My friend Aoife had the promotional poster for Romeo and Juliet on the wall of her old bedroom. It's strangely burned into my mind.  
> \- I looked desperately, but professional chefs are terrible at creating vegetarian recipes, so neither Nigella or Gordon Ramsay actually have a vegetarian lasagne recipe. This is the first time Gordon Ramsay has ever let me down. I'm in shock.  
> \- This was supposed to be a 500 word drabble, I'm serious.  
> \- I started writing this before the " _300,000 Kroner_ " clip came out, but my Microsoft Word crashed four times in the editing process. Meltdowns were had.  
> \- Like seriously I had to keep editing dialogue as more of the Sana and Even backstory kept getting revealed. Total meltdown, screaming everywhere. Many Snapchats were sent to many friends as my panic increased.  
> \- Isak and Even are literally the walking version of the, "How's the prettiest boy doing" / "I don't know, how are you" / *voice cracks* "Fine" meme. Has anyone ever talked about this?


End file.
